Smoke
by Melannen Halfelven
Summary: Oneshot. The Feanorians land at Losgar, and something goes terribly wrong. summary stinks


_Smoke_

Maedhros leaned against the cold rock face, concealed by the shadows. He had not wanted to believe it; he had not wanted to believe his father and brothers were capable of such reckless hate, but they were. The Teleri had been armed with only slender bows, they had stood no chance against the Noldor. Yet they had fought. Fought for everything, their ships, their homes, their lives. While his people had butchered them for only the sake of a quicker passage. Maedhros swallowed, the thought made him sick.

He had seen in their eyes the fierce determination, and the valor. The craftsmen, the shipwrights, the fathers, the brothers. He had seen also the despair, the look of an elda knowing the end was near, but fighting on. He shuddered, but not from the cold. The faces, he could still see them, silently pleading with him for mercy. At one point he had given it, but even as he had lowered his blood-smeared sword, another had come crashing down. The fair-haired Elf's gaze had been confused, and betrayed. Even as he fell, the young elf had grasped the small token which hung about his neck. A white swan's wing made of pearl, the sign of his people. He had probably been a merchant's son, but Maedhros would give him nothing less than a title equal to his own.

Maedhros pushed away from the rock and stumbled down to the water, which licked restlessly at the hems of his robes. Frothy fingers clinging to him, begging for mercy. Pushing himself up he staggered a few steps before collapsing into the sand.

"Brother?" Amrod knelt beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Maedhros?"

Maedhros studied his brother. He was so young, but the blood on his clothes reminded Maedhros that he was not innocent. He too had taken part in the Kinslayings. He was no longer the child the eldest son of Feanor remembered, who had played beneath the Two Trees, glowing with their light. Perhaps, though, there was hope for him. Not for Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Curufin, Caranthir, or Amras, but maybe for him.

Amrod shook him lightly. "Russandol?"

"Go home. Go back. Beg for forgiveness. Do anything, just do not stay. You cannot stay."

Amrod shook his head. "No, I cannot leave. I belong here."

"Are you blind?" Maedhros cried, shoving his brother away. "You fool, go now! Take a ship and leave! You are the last hope of the house of Feanor."

Amrod stared down at him for a long while before turning and walking back towards the ships. When he was stopped by Amras, the older twin claimed, truly, that felt ill and would prefer to spend the night away from the elements. Maedhros smiled as he watched Amrod climb into the ship, for the thought gave him hope.

Slowly he drifted off into a restless sleep, filled with dreams of burning timbers.

Thin fingers of smoke rose from the burning ships, coiling into the night sky like tattered ribbons. The stars were veiled by the pall, and the red glow from the fires cast an ethereal aura over the shore. Great cliffs towered beyond the beach, appearing to be the ebony barricade of some great fortress hidden within their insurmountable heights.

Maedhros coughed and shook himself. The bitter taste of fumes filled his senses. He sat up and was shocked to see the pale ships alight on the water. He scrambled to his feet and ran to where his father and brothers watched the burning, triumphantly.

"What is going on?" He cried.

"Now at least I am certain that no faint-heart or traitor among you will be able to take back even one ship to the succor of Fingolfin and his folk." Feanor said maniacally.

To Maedhros' growing horror he could find Amrod no where. He turned and faced the water, tears burning his eyes. How could it be? He called out to Amrod, searching the shore for his little brother. He was not found. Running to Amras, he grabbed his brother by the shoulders.

"Where is Amrod?" He demanded, with worry in his voice.

Amras began to shrug when a light of understanding kindled in his eyes. "No . . ." He shook his head and looked out at the ships. "He could not have . . . . He went to the ships saying he felt ill, but Father would have roused him . . . ."

Maedhros shook his head, tears now streaming down his face in small rivers. "You actually believe that Feanor, who never again shall I call Father, would spare so much of a thought on one who he sees as a traitor?"

"Amrod is his son!"

"Do you think that matters? Feanor is fey, you cannot expect so much mercy from him." Maedhros said bitterly.

Amras collapsed into his brother's arms, weeping. "The Valar has always blessed us with the same gifts, and burdened us with the same hardships, but with the greatest obstacle I see not why they so suddenly parted us." He said, his voice muffled in Maedhros' tunic.

"I told him to go to the ships." Maedhros whispered sadly. "I told him to go back and beg for mercy from the Valar, and perhaps save the House of Feanor, yet I have killed him." He stroked his youngest brother's reddish hair. "I have been a fool. I killed my own brother."

Amras shook his head. "No." he forced a small smile. "Amrod would not have gone if it was not in his mind to do so already. You cannot hold yourself accountable for his death."

"I should have protected him!" Maedhros bellowed.

"You did what you could." There was wisdom in his words, despite his youth.

"That cold-hearted _draug_ will pay for this." Maedhros growled, his voice choked by tears. "If he holds worthless jewels over his own kin, the kin which he buried under the waves, let, then, one of his Silmarils also be buried there." He tore out of Amras' arms and stalked over to Feanor, who was gazing victoriously over the water. "Where is Amrod?" He said with a venom that surprised even himself.

Feanor looked around and shrugged. "Probably wandered off."

"He was on the ship."

"No, no, he was not. I told Curufin to rouse him."

"He was on the ship."

Feanor shook his head. "Maedhros, he was not on the ship."

"Umbarto."

Feanor opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emitted. "No." Though he tried to hide it, the dismay in his voice could still be heard. "That ship I destroyed first."

Amras came to stand beside his oldest brother. "Then rightly you gave the name to the youngest of your children, and Umbarto 'the fated' was its true form. Fell and fey are you become." His words were sharp, and had they been a blade they would have made the very air bleed. Spinning on his heel, Amras walked away from his father.

"You have slain him." Maedhros' voice was as soft thunder.

"He chose to go to the ships."

"I was not speaking of Amrod."


End file.
